Lin Jingqiu had already made up her mind.
Whether it was this realm or all the living beings within it, in her heart, none of it mattered nearly as much as her little sister.
If her sister was happy, she was happy.
If her sister died, she would die too.
The Divine Lord’s two eyes, one bright and one dark, seemed to hold entire universes within them.
Rumor had it that his left eye could see all that had passed, and his right eye could glimpse the distant future.
No one knew exactly what he had seen, but he actually agreed to half of Lin Jingqiu’s request and pressed a strand of Dao rhythm into Lin Xiaomu’s body.
“The position of disciple cannot be changed. And as punishment for yielding this Dao rhythm, I sentence you to eternal silence—you shall never speak again.”
His words seemed to invoke the very force of the rules. Lin Jingqiu opened her mouth, but not a single sound came out!
She was frozen for a moment, then kowtowed three times in gratitude.
If her little sister could be healed, what did it matter if she herself was struck mute?
The days that followed were remarkably uneventful.
The five newly appointed disciples, under the Divine Lord’s tutelage and with an abundance of resources at their disposal, advanced by leaps and bounds.
Lin Jingqiu was deeply grateful that the Divine Lord had given a strand of Dao rhythm to her sister, so she trained with exceptional diligence.
She had been suppressing her cultivation all along; once she fully unleashed it, she broke through the mortal realm and crossed into the Immortal realm in just seven days—becoming the first among the five to achieve that breakthrough.
Chu Huaizhi followed close behind, taking fifteen days to step into the Immortal realm.
Day after day, year after year.
Lin Jingqiu’s cultivation soared ever higher, until she could stand shoulder to shoulder with the great cultivators. But her sister’s soulless condition showed no improvement.
That single strand of Dao rhythm had only made her body healthier and more long-lived—it had no effect on her soul whatsoever.
After emerging from seclusion, Lin Jingqiu found her sister at the mountaintop.
There was a large rock up there, and Lin Xiaomu often sat on it, watching the clouds drift and the wind wander, from morning till night.
Lin Jingqiu came up behind her and gathered her windblown hair into a bun.
During all those days she had been in seclusion, no one had been there to comb her sister’s hair, so she had just let it hang loose.
Lin Jingqiu spoke to her through secret sound transmission.
“Little sister, I’ve already arranged for the Ferry of the Ages. Tomorrow they’ll send someone to pick you up and take you home. Grandma and Grandpa are waiting for you there.”
Lin Xiaomu looked up, staring straight into Lin Jingqiu’s eyes.
Lin Jingqiu pinched her little cheek, her gaze so tender it seemed about to spill over.
“The Divine Lord has decided to attempt ascension once more. The five of us disciples will stand guard and assist him. Don’t worry—he’s done this before. If the power isn’t enough, he’ll back down.”
Lin Xiaomu believed her. She pointed at the rock beneath her and chattered away, telling Lin Jingqiu a story.
“One day, the sky tore open a great hole. A goddess took seven-colored stones and mended the sky. After she finished, one tiny stone was left behind. It accidentally fell to the mountaintop, weathered by wind and sun, absorbing the essence of the moon and stars—until finally, a monkey burst out from inside it.”
A dry, simple telling—a story of a stone giving birth to a monkey.
Reality was far more exciting than that, but Lin Jingqiu clapped enthusiastically, her eyes sparkling: “Little sister, you’re so amazing! You can actually make up stories now.”
Make up stories?
No, that wasn’t it—that story had suddenly leaped into her mind all at once.
Lin Jingqiu didn’t understand these things. She simply assumed that the Dao rhythm had finally begun to show some effect—at least her sister’s mind wasn’t empty anymore.
Overjoyed as she was, she couldn’t help feeling deeply reluctant to part.
She packed a mountain of luggage for Lin Xiaomu, stuffing an entire mustard-seed spatial pouch full of immortal fruits from the dojo.
“Only one a day—don’t eat too many. Don’t get off the boat at any point along the way. No matter who asks you to follow them, don’t go. When you get home, listen to Grandpa and Grandma.”
Her sister was about to leave, and Lin Jingqiu felt she had an endless stream of words, an unending litany of reminders.
In the end, still uneasy, she went to that female great cultivator and asked for a puppet guardian to escort her little sister.
Three days later, the staff of the Ferry of the Ages came to take Lin Xiaomu away, and the Divine Lord began his ascension.
This time, a great many people came to witness the ascent—almost all the immortals above the Golden Immortal level from across the entire realm.
They each found a cave dwelling and set up layer upon layer of shields, hoping to catch even a glimpse of the event.
The Divine Lord stood at the very center, with four disciples positioned to the east, south, west, and north. Lin Jingqiu remained directly below him, ready to lend her strength at any moment.
“Rise!”
Wind and clouds churned. The Divine Lord shot upward like a rocket, soaring into the heavens.
Higher, and higher still!
His aura continued to climb. The suppressed cultivation let out crackling sounds of shattering, breaking through one layer of confinement after another.
This was the process everyone knew well.
Until at last, he reached the edge of the star domain, where endless nothingness devoured the final traces of light.
There, spanning millions of miles, the “Cage of Heavenly Wrath”—forged from primordial laws—revealed its terrifying true form.
No—it was not a physical entity, but an immense net woven from billions of constantly spawning and dying chaotic thunder patterns and orderly divine chains!
Cold punishment-fire flowed across its surface, reducing anything it touched—be it a star or a wisp of divine sense—to ashes in an instant.
The watching great cultivators all wore expressions of sheer horror.
There it was!
The absolute prison that had held the entire cultivation civilization captive for ten thousand years had finally revealed a sliver of its true face!
The Divine Lord stood alone and towering. His Nine-Heavens Cloud-Patterned Robe was already tattered, revealing a crystalline immortal body beneath, covered in cracks like shattered glass.
His aura merged with that of his five disciples, transforming into a sharp edge of light that sought to pierce the eternal darkness.
“Let the stars of the heavens bear witness—today, I trade my very Dao for a single thread of hope!”
The Divine Lord’s voice was calm, yet it echoed throughout the cosmos.
His hands formed the last primordial forbidden seal. At the center of his brow, the nine-colored immortal mark representing his supreme fruition erupted with a brilliance surpassing that of a star—then shattered inch by inch!
This was not self-destruction. It was the burning of his entire lifetime’s cultivation, all his understanding of the Heavenly Dao, and even his immortal soul itself—all reduced to a pure, ultimate flood of origin, like the very first ray of light at the dawn of creation, crashing fiercely against that cage of laws.
Such a tremendous upheaval stirred the hearts of cultivators across the entire star domain. They looked up toward the sky one after another.
What was happening?
The Ferry of the Ages dared not continue its journey and stayed put, silently waiting for this storm of chaos to pass.
Lin Xiaomu rested her head against the window.
Her vision was sharp. She saw the cage. She saw the Divine Lord drawing upon the cultivation and souls of the five disciples to deliver his final strike.
She saw her sister—like a shattered crystal doll—torn apart and reduced to ash in a turbulent current.
“Sister.”
Lin Xiaomu pulled the scroll from her bosom and cast it into the void.
The three thousand heads materialized, their eyes lowered, chanting Sanskrit hymns from their lips.
It sounded like a soul-summoning dirge. Upon the scroll, many figures began to appear.
They took shape like figures drawn in ink, their features filled in and rendered with exquisite care.
The first to appear was Lin Jingqiu—her face full of shock and reluctant longing.
At the edge of the star domain, though the Divine Lord had perished, the tear he had opened still remained.
Countless outer-realm demons poured in through the gap, only to burst like brilliant fireworks under the constraints of the laws.
“Quick! Ascend now!”
The watching great cultivators were frantic—this was the closest anyone had ever come to ascension!
Lin Xiaomu gazed at the chaos before her, and a line suddenly surfaced in her mind.
【People outside the walls want to get in; people inside the walls want to get out.】
Who had said that, again?
Lin Xiaomu blinked in confusion. A white speck of light suddenly flashed into the center of her brow.
That was the Divine Lord’s backup plan.
Lin Xiaomu possessed a Heavenly Dao body, suffered from soullessness, and carried the Dao rhythm he had gifted her—she was the perfect vessel for possession!
…
On Jiuzhou Star, Lin Jingqiu’s eyes snapped open. She flipped her wrist, and a fiery-red small dagger materialized out of thin air.
Little sister—I’m awake.
